


Stay Awake

by Talinor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura the Space Mom, Fatal Injury, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Realizing Feelings, They're both emotionally constipated, latino lance, these two goobers honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talinor/pseuds/Talinor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Lance forgot one simple mistake could mean the end.</p><p>AKA Lance nearly dies, Keith saves him, and both question their feelings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> voltron has taken over my life and drove me to write a good majority of this fic at like 1am whoops
> 
> EDIT: YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE OH MY GO D THANK YOU

Sometimes Lance forgot one simple mistake could mean the end.

Then life would slap him in the face with reality. But he always got back up, no matter what. He had to keep going.

Turns out, that's a lot harder when your legs feel like jelly after a Galra bullet tore through your right side. It was hard to think and stay standing, he didn't even want to think about moving right now.

If he had been quicker, he'd be perfectly fine. If he'd been smarter, he'd have brought his helmet and comm with him instead of leaving them in Blue like a dumbass. Or he could've at least stayed with the group instead of following some Galra who mentioned something about Earth. God, even thinking about it made his chest constrict. And he really didn't need that right now.

He tried to walk as best as he could, one hand bracing his lean frame against the wall. The other was covering the probably bad looking gash. It stung like hell, and nothing he tried could make the pain ease.

He tried to think, to remember where he saw the others last. Did he leave them behind in this hallway? Or was it the one a couple steps away? He couldn't tell. Why did all the ship's hallways look the same? Was he going in circles?

Knowing his luck, he probably was. Wonderful.

Every step hurt now. But he had to keep going, find the others. They'd help him. Sure, Shiro would probably give him a big Dad-like speech along the lines of 'what were you thinking ' and probably say something like 'I'm not mad, just disappointed.' He could live with that.

Mainly 'cause it'd mean he'd be alive to hear it.

The very real possibility that he could die here finally hit him. His weak legs finally buckled under him, wincing on the way down and holding back some choice words. With his astoundingly shitty luck, he'd probably attract any Galra that wasn't fighting the others and they'd finish the job. He refused to die here, alone and bleeding out on an alien ship lightyears away from his family.

His vision blurred. His ever-so-helpful brain kept supplying him with fears worse than the last one.

The others might think he's already dead.

They might have left already.

If he did die, they might not be able to find another pilot for Blue.

They wouldn't be able to form Voltron.

Zarkon wouldn't have anything in his way.

His family would likely die never really knowing what happened to him.

God, he sounded angstier than Keith's iTunes playlist. But he couldn't help it. It was starting to hurt to even move, breathing kept getting harder and harder, and his legs felt like dead weight. What could he do?

He was so wrapped up in his problems he barely noticed the faint quick footsteps. Until they grew louder. 'Louder' as in 'getting closer and closer to where Lance was slumped against the wall wallowing in self pity'.

They stopped at the other end of the hallway, and he was a little surprised to hear his rescuer sigh out in relief when he saw who it actually was.

Keith. Speak of the devil.

Well, his mama always told him beggars can't be choosers.

Keith moved to his side quickly, eyebrows furrowed in... was that worry? If he wasn't bleeding, he'd probably tease the other about it.

Keith was surprisingly gentle in trying to move Lances's right hand. And immediately stopped when Lance winced. He looked to Lance, his eyes steely and serious."How bad is it?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, or...?"

The other exhaled in frustration. "Just answer the question."

"It's pretty bad." As if that wasn't obvious.

"Can you walk?"

"Not on my own," he admitted.

"Okay," Keith stood up, extending out a hand. "You can lean on me."

"Guess I don't really have much of a choice, huh?" He tried to joke.

"Not if you wanna get out of here," Right. This was Keith, Mr. 'I-wouldn't-know-a-joke-if-it-slapped-me-in-the-face'. He took the hand, letting the other paladin hoist him up to his feet. He switched hands, slinging his right arm over Keith's shoulders and his left replacing it on his wound. Keith put his own left hand just above Lance's torso, steadying him. "Ready?"

"Ready? Me? Of course I am. I was practically born ready, mullet-man." His words sounded a hell of a lot more confident than he felt. But there was no way he'd let Keith, of all people, know that.

"You're okay enough to insult me, so you should be fine." He used his other hand to switch on his helmet's comm. "I found Lance. We're heading your way now- get a healing pod ready."

They started out well enough. Keith was better at navigating them through the maze of fuchsia halls, despite a few different routes to avoid patrols. Lance kept up as best as he could, considering.

Then he started getting slower. 

His head started to swim, thoughts becoming as incoherent as shapes underneath the surface of water. It didn't take the other long to notice.

"Hey," his voice was hushed, his expression growing concerned. "Lance, stay with me. You can do this." He paused a moment, probably listening for any Galra headed towards them. "Talk to me."

His throat felt dry. "What should I say?"

"I don't know. Something, anything." If he hadn't before, Keith certainly seemed scared now. "As long as you stay conscious, I don't care. You're good at talking."

He wracked his brain for something to talk about. Out of all the times he could run out of things to say, of course it had to be now.

Keith looked to him. "You have family back on Earth. Do you wanna tell me about them?"

He can't really explain why, but he nodded.

He talked about his two sisters and three brothers, his rowdy cousins that always dunked him in the pool, the time his abuelita used salt instead of sugar while baking something for him.

He still remembers how godawful those cupcakes tasted.

Keith listened intently, or at least he seemed to. Lance couldn't tell for sure. If he didn't know better, the red paladin looked... a little envious. No, envious was too strong a word for the expression he caught Keith making. He looked...

Yearning.

It was probably a result of the blood loss, but he couldn't help but wonder why. 

Speaking of blood loss, he tried look at his surroundings only to get a major case of whiplash. If Keith hadn't been holding onto him, he'd have definitely fallen onto the floor. This was bad. Very, very bad.

"Hey," A hand cupped the side of his face, moving it so he was staring right at Keith. Thankfully, he'd had the sense not to add to his vertigo. "We're almost there, just a little further. You're going to be fine, I promise." His face was dead serious. He looked like he really believed that. It was... kinda hot, actually.

Oh god. He was getting delirious. He actually thought Keith was attractive. What was next, pigs sprouting wings?

"Just keep your eyes open and on me. Keep talking." It was hard to remember where he'd been in the story, or even which one he'd been telling. He was too busy looking at Keith, studying his stupid face with his stupidly soft looking bangs falling by his steely blue eyes and-

"-Lance?" He blinked, snapping out of it. Keith had stopped, looking to him expectantly. He'd said something.

He was too busy staring at the other paladin like an idiot to pay attention. What had he asked? He really didn't like the weird look he was getting right now.

"Spaced out for a minute there," Lance tried to recover, cracking a small grin at the unintentional pun. "Get it? Cause we're in-"

Keith sighed and continued moving them along. "Yeah, I get it. Ha." He could see the red paladin roll his eyes. "At least you still have your sense of humor."

"What would I be without it?" Okay, he was hopefully in the clear. If Keith questioned about it later, he could always blame the blood loss. That's all it was, right?

"Someone who's actually enjoyable to talk to?"

"Ouch," Lance said, feigning pain. It wasn't really hard considering he actually was still feeling waves of it all over. "You know, that hurt."

"More than a laser bullet to the side?" Keith looked to him with that stupid attractive smirk, stopping by the point where they entered the ship. Well, point was an exaggeration really. It was more of a giant gash they blew through the ship's hull.

The red lion was waiting for them, floating closer until her head was poking in, her robotic maw wide open. Keith stepped in first, both hands steadying Lance as he stepped in.

Red shut her mouth, moving out of the hole as Keith led him to the control room. Lance leaned against the pilot's chair. "So," he started, looking down at the other paladin. "Where are the others anyway?"

"Distracting the Galra so I could pull your ass outta the fire," he said, putting one of his hands on the controls. The other adjusted the comm channel. "We're heading home, pull out."

"How is he?" A voice he barely recognized as Pidge questioned.

"He's conscious, but it... looks pretty bad." Lance snickered, then winced. God, that hurt. 'Pretty bad' was an understatement.

"Allura's got a healing pod ready." Shiro told him. "We'll meet up with you two soon. Keep him conscious."

"Will do," Keith switched the channel, then put his other hand on the controls. Red flew away from the ship quickly, putting a good amount of distance between them and the Galra.

"Why'd you switch the channel?" Lance asked. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, his words slurring slightly. He didn't miss the concern Keith was showing, however.

"You were telling me some pretty personal stuff back there," he shrugged. "I didn't know if you wanted the others to know that yet." Keith turned more towards him in his seat. "I mean, if you want-"

"Nah, 's fine." It was really hard to concentrate on what he wanted to say, with those cobalt eyes focused on him without an ounce of annoyance. That was rare.

Keith was kinda pretty when he wasn't annoyed with him. Meaning he was rarely pretty.

Honestly, he can't even remember what happened after that. It was a blur of color, a symphony of different voices garbled together. Trying to remember what they were saying was like listening to a language you barely knew. You could recognize a few words, but most of them weren't understandable in the slightest.

-

Keith had learned a lot of things about Lance that day.

1\. He was the oldest of six siblings.

2\. He had a huge chaotic family. (Which explained a lot about him, honestly.)

And the newest of them: he was fluent in Spanish. Fluent enough to keep making jokes (at least, they sounded like they were supposed to be jokes) in Spanish.

"¿Has oído el caso de ese fugitivo que secuestró un autobús de turistas?"

That sounded like some kind of question. But what was he supposed to say? "Um, I... guess?"

"La policía tiene 5.000 fotos suyas." Lance started laughing, then winced. He doubled over, gripping the seat with one hand and his gash with the other.

"Hey," Keith put one hand on Lance's. "You're gonna be okay, just hold on. You can do it." Thankfully, Red seemed to sense her pilot's growing anxiety and was going just a little quicker than usual. She was good like that.

Lance moved his gaze from down on the floor to Keith's face. He had that weird expression he'd caught earlier, kinda like... well -to put it bluntly- a love struck idiot. Like he could see colors after years of black and white. It didn't exactly make him uncomfortable, but Lance wasn't thinking straight right now. There was no other explanation for it.

That didn't stop the weird fluttering feeling in his chest, however. But he could sort out his feelings later. They were nearing the castle and Lance probably wouldn't remember any of this when he was all healed up. Just like what happened after the fight with Sendak. Everything would go back to normal, and he'd never mention tiny details like these. The 'bonding moments.'

"What 'bout you?" Lance asked. He was looking at Keith's hand, which was still on his. Realizing his mistake, he swiftly took his hand away and put it back on the controls.

"What do you mean?" 

"Y'know," Lance gestured to him with his free hand. "Your family. If you wanna talk 'bout them, I mean."

Oh. Right.

He shrugged. "Honestly? I never really knew them." Lance had told him so much about himself, it was only fair to be honest with him. Especially if he might not remember it. "Dad died in a crash, Mom died giving birth to me, the usual sob story. I stayed with this really nice couple for about ten or eleven years, until..." He trailed off. It wasn't exactly fun to remember what they said to him before they left him. But all that didn't matter anymore.That stuff was all in the past. He turned out alright.

That didn't really stop it from hurting, but it helped ease the pain a little.

Thankfully, Lance didn't have time to ask about it before they arrived at the castle. Red sat down on the docking bay's floor, lowering her head to let them out. Keith stood up without moving the chair Lance latched onto. "Do you think you can walk?"

Lance hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.

Keith sighed. Whatever was in charge of the universe must've decided it really hated him today. Might as well get it over with.

He maneuvered himself by Lance, putting one hand on his upper back. Apparently Lance didn't understand what he was doing, because he tensed up at the gesture. He looked to Keith in confusion. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to carry you, duh." Keith explained. "I've done it before, remember?" He moved his other arm to the back of Lance's legs. "Just trust me."

After a moment, Lance nodded. "Okay."

Keith prepared himself, then scooped up the lanky paladin in his arms with a huff. Lance was a bit heavier than he remembered, but the situation they were in was pretty similar to the first time this happened.

Steadily, he carried Lance through the castle's hallways. After a few sleepless nights of wandering the huge spaceship, he knew the way like the back of his hand. They'd get there soon, and Lance would be fine. Hopefully.

He looked down at the blue paladin and was met with a small smile. "What?"

"You know," the adoration on his face made his chest constrict. "You have beautiful eyes."

It was official. Lance had lost his mind.

Keith quickened his pace, feeling his face flush as the air around him seemed to turn 5 degrees hotter in a second. Fortunately, Allura was waiting for them by the pod.

"Keith," she said, rushing to him. She looked Lance over, and her eyebrows shot up at seeing the gash. "What happened?"

Slowly, he let Lance's legs down on the floor. "Galra bullet got him," he explained, dragging the barely conscious body to the pod with help from the Princess. After the glass cover settled over the healing pod, he looked over to Allura. "Do you know why it kept bleeding?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, examining the gash with furrowed eyebrows. "The heat should've been enough to cauterize any wound it could make. This is... most concerning." She then turned that worried look onto him. "What about you? Are you getting sick?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you looked feverish when you hurried in." Allura looked very concerned, examining him for any signs he was coming down with something. She put a hand to his forehead for a couple seconds before pulling it away quickly with a grimace. "By the stars, you're burning up! Are you sure you don't feel sick?"

"I feel fine," he said bluntly. "How long should it take for him to heal up?"

Allura looked to him suspiciously, but answered the question. "With an injury this severe," she paused, her eyes focused on the wound. "A week, at least. Maybe more. The pod works fast, but it isn't a quick miracle worker. It will take time for the flesh to regenerate."

He wasn't expecting anything other than that, but his heart still sank at hearing it.

"But," she continued. "he's lucky. If you hadn't arrived when you did, he wouldn't have made it." She paused, examining his expression for a minute that felt like an hour. "You should get some rest," she said thoughtfully. "I will tell the others when they return."

"I already told you, I feel fine."

"Your forehead was burning," Allura chided like she was talking to a stubborn child. Which, to be fair, was how he was acting. "From what I know, you're either getting sick or something has you worked up." She paused, realization dawning on her face. "He said something to you."

"What do you mean?"

"As Paladins link together with their lions," she explained. "Both portray certain traits of the other. In your case, due to your lion's pyrotechnic abilities, your temperature can flare up with certain emotions. So you're either upset," she studied his expression, a small knowing grin forming. "Or flustered."

Oh no. No no no, this wasn't happening right now. Maybe rest was a good idea. If not just to get away from this weird situation. "Actually," he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door. "I'm just gonna go to my room. Good night."

"Good night, Keith." He heard her call out before he left the room and made a beeline for the privacy of his quarters. At least no one else would ask him probing questions in there. A chance to sleep was sounding pretty appealing right now.

He was asleep before falling on the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation (I literally got this joke off google so I'm sorry if it's not right)
> 
> Has oído el caso de ese fugitivo que secuestró un autobús de turistas? : Have you heard about the case of that fugitive who held hostage a busload of tourists?
> 
>  
> 
> La policía tiene 5.000 fotos suyas: The police have 5,000 pictures of him


	2. Do I Wanna Know (if this feeling flows both ways?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith realizes his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part 2!  
> it's shorter, but I tried okay

Keith stared at the gash on Lance's side. It was much smaller now, a healing pink scar instead of a bleeding wound the size of his fist. It'd been five days now, and if Allura was right, Lance wouldn't even have a scar in two days. He'd be fine, he probably wouldn't remember much, and the two of them would return to their usual routine of banter and poking fun.

Everything would be okay. So why wasn't he okay with that?

Sure, Lance could be annoying as hell, there'd be no denying that. Sometimes Lance would practically tap-dance of his nerves. Not to mention his ego bigger than his lion. A month or so ago, he never would've even thought about Lance as anything more than a teammate. A friend.

But recently, he's allowed his gaze to linger on Lance's smile when he told the others a godawful joke. Everything that pissed Keith off about him lost their edge. All venom that might've been in their words at first was completely gone.

And then Lance had to go and almost die. What he said while Keith was carrying him, how he looked while he said it, was still bouncing around in his head. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, his ears still heard 'You have beautiful eyes,' like it was his favorite lyric to a song stuck in his head.

Why couldn't he just get over it? Why couldn't he get over the soft, pure adoration on Lance's face when he said those words? Why did it matter that he'd never seen Lance look at anyone like that? It shouldn't be something that stuck with him. Right?

Wrong, apparently.

If it didn't stick in his mind so much, he wouldn't have been checking on Lance's condition at least once per day. If he didn't care so much, he wouldn't be spending any time not used by checking on Lance in the training deck trying to avoid his weird and complicated feelings. He lost sleep, he barely ate.

So basically, he was a mess and it was all Lance's fault.

"Hey," a familiar voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He heard Hunk sit down next to him. "Thought I'd find you here."

"Hi." He said quietly. He wasn't really in the mood to talk, but he'd been in that mood almost all week. It's kinda hard to avoid people when you lived on a spaceship with 6 (well, 5) other people who cared about you. He couldn't avoid them forever.

However, he'd thought Allura would be the one to finally confront him.

"He's looking pretty good, huh?" Hunk continued. 

Keith nodded. He hoped that would get the message of 'I really don't want to talk right now' across.

"But what about you?" Apparently it didn't.

"What about me?"

"I know you're a private person," Hunk started. "I understand that, and I respect that, but you're really starting to worry the rest of us. When was the last time you ate, dude?"

His stomach, at the mention of food, grumbled an answer before he could.

"Well, good thing I brought you something from dinner, then." He looked down at the small plate in Hunk's hand. For alien food, it looked good. It almost looked like something you'd find on Earth.

"You made this, right?" Hunk nodded, and he took the plate from Hunk's hand along with a fork in the other. "Thanks."

He took a bite, slowly savoring the tangy taste. It took a second to get used to the peculiar flavor, but once he did, he realized how hungry he was and took another bite. Then another. And another. This continued on until the plate was scraped clean.

Hunk waited until he was done to try talking to him again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you like Lance?"

"Well, yeah," Keith said with a shrug. "I mean, he's annoying sometimes, but we're friends. Of course I like him."

"That's not what I meant, man. I mean," he let out a breathy laugh. "I sound like a kindergartner, but do you... you know, like-like Lance?"

Oh.

He pursed his lips in thought. Did he like Lance?

Sure, Lance could make him want to wring his neck some days. Yet his infectious laughter gave Keith weird fluttery feelings. In the Galra ship, running through the halls looking for that somewhat stupidly cute dumbass, he was worried out of his mind. But that was just the natural reaction when you were trying to find your friend, right?

Friends might not understand their friend's jokes (or 'memes', Lance called them) but still laughed at them. Friends listened intently when their friend told them extremely-personal information that they probably didn't tell easily. Friends volunteered to save their friend when they make a dumb decision.

Friends sometimes idly wondered how it would feel to have their friend's hand entwined with his. How it'd feel to shut those talkative lips up. But those were just stupid hypothetical situations that would never, ever happen anywhere other than his sleep-deprived mind at 3 in the morning. Ever.

"I..." He let out a frustrated sigh, massaging his temples with one hand and holding the plate and fork in the other. "I think so? I don't really know."

"Hey," he felt a hand on his shoulder. "That's okay. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

"No, you're fine." Keith assured. "I'm just an idiot." It was silent for a couple moments before he looked over at Hunk. "Don't tell him that, okay?"

"Both the 'I might like Lance' and the idiot part, right?"

He nodded.

-

Keith narrowly avoided the drone's bullet, moving his shield in the nick of time. It had been three days since his talk with Hunk, two since a brief conversation with Coran (on Allura's behalf, probably) and he could only guess someone else would confront him again sometime today. It's not like he could really avoid them.

Still, he wasn't looking forward to it.

The only place he could really focus on something else was the training deck. He didn't have time to mull over his feelings when something was shooting at him, letting his mind go on autopilot as he dodged and parried. It was a place he relied on instinct and adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he reveled in it.

Then again, the sound of footsteps heading his direction reminded him, it couldn't stay that way forever. He had to face the music eventually.

Just not now.

"Allura," he said, not bothering to look in her direction. "If this is about Lance, I don't wanna hear it right now."

"Wow," the familiar voice made him stop in his tracks. The voice he hadn't heard in 8 days, about 2 hours, and fuck-if-he-knew minutes and seconds. Not that Keith had bothered counting, of course. "Nice to see you too, edgelord."

A drone's bullet hit his arm, giving him a small electric shock. But he didn't bother to care. He was too busy being overwhelmed by relief, swept up in the current and letting himself go under.

It took himself a minute to shake himself out of it enough to realize what he'd done. Or more accurately- what he was still doing. Apparently he'd blanked out on rushing to the Blue paladin, and considering said Paladin was still tensed up, he wasn't expecting Keith to hug him.

And had been hugging him for a probably awkward amount of time. Whoops.

Keith broke off the hug, separating himself from Lance. He looked... surprised, to say the least. He quickly shook it off, replacing it with a smug grin. "So," he started. "What was that earlier? About Allura and I?"

He sighed. "It's 'Allura and me', first off," It was easy to settle back into their usual routine. He'd missed it. "Second off, we were worried about you. The entire team was."

"'We'?" Lance repeated. "And what about you, huh?"

"Well," Keith shot back. "I had less headaches this week thanks to you not being around."

"That's big talk from someone who ran up to hug me a minute ago."

Keith shrugged. "Apparently I'm a masochist. Not to mention we can actually form Voltron now that you're not busy being a Lance-sicle."

"'Lance-sicle'? Really?" He said with a snicker. "That was the best you could come up with? You can do better than that."

"What would you want me to call you? Pendejo?" While he didn't know more than basic Spanish, Pidge had been more than happy to teach him some curse words in the language. From what he'd learned, it meant 'idiot' or 'asshole'.

He looked smugly at Lance's stunned expression.

That look died quickly as Lance's laughter filled the room. In many ways, Lance's laughter was like the person it belonged to. Loud, rambunctious, grated on his nerves sometimes, yet so wonderfully infectious you couldn't help but smile or join in. Hearing it again made that weird fluttery feeling rise up in his chest.

God, he was in deeper than he'd thought. Was he? Did he actually like Lance?

Lance doubled over, putting one hand on Keith's shoulder for support. He let him vent it out, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his own smile from showing. Finally, gasping for air, Lance looked up at him. His eyes were shining with tears threatening to form. "Your..." He started, calming down. He wiped his eyes before continuing. "Your pronunciation is terrible. Just awful."

"Yeah, well," he wracked his mind for a good comeback. Despite his best efforts to calm down, he felt his temperature slowly and steadily rise. "...Shut up."

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks. An idea that he never would've considered in a million years, but now that it had wormed its way into his head, it wouldn't leave him alone. The urge threatened to overcome him, but he held on this time.

But it was a dumb idea, and a million things could go wrong. He's not sure he could handle Lance pushing him away. He's not sure he could handle the disgust he expected right now.

It would break his heart.

"-Keith?" He snapped himself out of it just in time to catch the end of whatever Lance had said.

He was suddenly hyperaware of Lance's hand still on his shoulder. He was looking at Keith expectantly. "I..." He started, his mind racing with possibilities. Sure, there was a chance Lance would kiss him back, but considering the circumstances, he probably wouldn't. Why was he overthinking this? Why couldn't he _stop?_ Swallowing the lump in his throat, he made up his mind.

"I gotta go." Wrenching his shoulder away from Lance's easy grip, he turned toward the doorway Lance had entered from and briskly walked into the hall.


	3. Wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk.  
> (And kiss)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ACTUALLY FINISHED A MULTICHAPTER FIC ARE YOU PROUD OF ME

What was Keith's deal? Ever since he'd suddenly stormed off on Lance that day in the training room, he barely talked around him. He'd just glare when Lance tried to cheer him up. He was acting more pissy than usual, and that was certainly saying something.

Did Lance say something? How could Keith have gotten that stick wedged further up his ass at him making fun of his pronunciation?

He just didn't understand.

One night, at dinner, Lance was planning to confront him about it. Get some answers. He was sick and tired of being ignored like this without knowing why. At the very least, he wanted to know what the problem was. 

Of course, that plan was ruined when Keith didn't even bother to show up at the table. Stupid Keith.

"So," Lance said, twirling his fork around in the green space goo on his plate. He'd gotten used to the weird food, even liked it a bit, but tonight he wasn't that hungry. No matter what he tried, his mind always went back to Keith. It was driving him crazy. "What's up with Keith?"

"He's not feeling well," Shiro told him, barely looking up from his plate. Like he couldn't look him in the face. "He's taking dinner in his room tonight."

"Oh really?" Lance looked at the others. All of them had a sudden interest in their food.

They all knew something he didn't.

But he knew who would tell him.

"He looked just fine to me earlier," he turned to the yellow paladin. "Right, Hunk? You've been awfully quiet there, buddy."

If anyone would tell him what the hell was going on with Keith, it would be Hunk. His best friend had a lot of strengths, but he was a shitty liar. He would start sweating, trip over his own words, the works. While the others had decent poker faces, he could practically see the cracks in Hunk's.

"Stomach ache," Hunk said, engaged in a staring contest with his goop. The goop was winning. "He-he didn't wanna gross us out."

"Sounds pretty bad," Lance said with a hum. "Maybe I should go check on him."

"No!" Hunk burst out. "I-I mean, you- he-" He looked to the others for some support.

"What Hunk's trying to say is," Pidge spoke up. "It... might not be a good idea for you to."

"Me, specifically?"

"No," They shook their head. "He just needs some time alone."

"He's alone like 80% of the time!" Lance said incredulously. "The other 20% he barely even looks at me!" He was fed up, sick and tired of this confusion. Sure, they'd fight. Sometimes they'd ignore each other for a day or so until they cooled down. But it never took this long, and he knew what he did wrong.

This whole 'I'm gonna ignore you and you're not going to know why' thing was getting annoying. He wanted things to return to normal between them.

Why couldn't Keith let that happen?

"I don't care if he's puking his guts out," Lance stood up from his chair. "I'm getting answers." With that, he stormed off into the hallway. He didn't care what the others protested on his way out. He made up his mind.

It wasn't a long walk, but it didn't take long for him to lose confidence. What if this made it worse? What if Keith really was sick and Lance was just being an over sensitive asshole?

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Keith standing outside his door, looking right at him. So he actually wasn't sick and Lance had been worrying about nothing. Keith really had just been avoiding him like a moody child.

That didn't make him feel better.

"Lance," Keith moved off the door, taking a few steps in his direction. "Knew you'd come here eventually."

"Keith," He was getting closer. "Why? What did I do?" He had this big rant in his head, planned to the word. He wanted to yell, shout, demand what he possibly did to deserve the coldest shoulder. But his words were quieter than he'd intended to.

The way Keith looked at him made his heart beat faster, his anger turning to wispy steam. It was as unsure as Lance felt, new and yet strangely familiar to him.

It was yearning.

They were inches apart now, Keith's gaze flickering between Lance's eyes and his lips. Strangely, the room seemed to grow hotter around them. Like they were two actors on a stage, and the spotlights just switched on. Yet it felt more... intimate than that. Like it was just them in the endless universe.

He got the answer to his questions in Keith's lips hesitantly pressing onto his.

It was unsure, and made it very obvious that Keith didn't have much experience with this. If he had any experience at all. But the kiss was also soft (did Keith wear chapstick just for this? seemed like it) and, despite the awkwardness, would actually be enjoyable.

If it wasn't so hot. Not hot as in sexy, but as in 'it feels like I'm lip locked with a stove please help'. He panicked and, without thinking, pushed the burn source (Keith) away from him.

He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on Keith's face. It was an expression he'd never seen the red paladin make.

And it was all because of him.

Keith looked like a kicked puppy. Like he'd showed Lance his heart, and watched as he stomped on it. Which was probably pretty accurate.

"I'm an idiot," he heard Keith mutter, turning away from Lance. "I-I'm sorry."

He was storming back to his room, just like the other day in the training deck. But this time, Lance raced after him.

"Keith, wait!" He grabbed at Keith's arm. For once, he didn't know what to say. He didn't have the right words on his tongue. Keith looked to him expectantly, those steely eyes trying desperately to hide the glimmer of hope. "I-I mean-"

"You don't need to explain yourself," Keith cut him off, wrenching his arm out of Lance's grasp. "I understand." His room's door slid open for him as he approached.

It closed behind him, and his heart sunk into his stomach at hearing the lock click.

Keith wasn't the idiot, Lance was.

...Well, to be fair, Lance didn't give him the silent treatment and let Keith wonder what the hell he said wrong. But he did push Keith away when he was trying to show Lance why. Keith wasn't the type to express himself so openly, and Lance shot him down without meaning to. And now Keith was locked in his room to brood and it was all Lance's fault.

So yes, Lance was the bigger idiot in this losing situation.

So how the hell could he make it better? Should he go back to the others and try to convince Keith to come out? Probably. Did he want to explain what happened? No.

He moved to the door, putting his back to the wall. He allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting on the floor. Keith couldn't stay in his room forever, and if he had to wait at his door, so be it.

But knowing Keith's resolve, this was gonna take a while. Good thing he had time.

That also meant he had time to think about what happened. Keith kissed him. Sure, it was inexperienced lip-mashing, but it wasn't the worst kiss Lance had ever had.

Was that why Keith had been avoiding him like the bubonic plague? Was that just his way of working up the courage to kiss him?

And Lance pushed him away after all that. Great. Even if he wasn't interested, he could've done better than that.

...'Even if'. Even if he wasn't-

Oh shit. _Was_ he interested?

Keith was a snarky, sarcastic asshole sometimes. He was fun to poke and prod, just to see how much he could handle. He was his rival. But he was also a teammate. A better pilot (depending on who you asked), a fierce fighter, and better than him at most things. It didn't even look like he tried sometimes.

Back at the Garrison, Keith was the star student. Top of the class, best of the best. The girls (and a considerable number of guys) swooned over his 'bad boy' attitude. Lance would've given anything to be like him.

To be equal to him.

Keith had everything, and threw it away like it was worth nothing. Now that he saw him everyday, he couldn't help but wonder why.

But did Lance actually like him in that way? Was he the stereotype of the little boy chasing the girl he liked around the playground?

It wasn't a divine epiphany with 'you like him' written in the stars, but it did finally smack him in the face. He did. He'd grown to know Keith, to know the less-seen parts of the former idol.

Keith was occasionally funny, and impulsive, and his rare genuine smile could probably make flowers bloom or something. He listened when Lance was rambling about himself, even when he's pretty sure he slipped into Spanish. He's not even sure if Keith understands spanish.

"Keith," he spoke up, filling up the awkward silence. "I'm sorry." He waited a second, listening for a response. Some kind of sound to acknowledge that he was listening. Or that he wasn't just talking to himself, at least.

Nothing. Time to do what he did best- keep talking until there was a response.

"I mean it," he said. "I... I didn't push you away 'cause the kiss was gross or anything- though your technique could use some work. It just caught me off guard and your lips were hot. I mean, literally hot. But it wasn't bad. It was... nice. I mean-" Oh god, he was rambling. Someone help him.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Why couldn't you just talk to me? I wouldn't have made fun of you. I'm not that much of a dick. Even if-"

"Even if what, Lance?" Allura interrupted, stepping in from the hallway. "Did Keith finally tell you how he felt?"

"Well, kinda." It took him a second to realize what Allura said. "Wait, 'finally'? You knew about this? How long?"

"Ever since Keith came back from that mission on the Galra ship carrying you," she moved closer to where he was, eyeing Keith's door with knit eyebrows."Did it not go well?"

"You could say that." He buried his face in his hands. "He kissed me, and I pushed him away like a jackass."

"What?!" He didn't need to see Allura's expression to know what it was. Her disbelieving tone said it all. "Why?"

"His lips were hot," Like that would explain everything. "It felt like I was kissing a burning stove."

"Lance."

He peeked out between two fingers and met Allura's icy glare. "What?"

"That meant he's enamored with you." She explained. "Due to his connection with his lion, his internal temperature spikes up with certain emotions. It flares up most when he's flustered."

"Oh," he mulled over that for a long moment. "Wait, what do you mean by 'enamored'? How do you know he doesn't just have a crush?"

"Would you check on your 'crush' daily when they're injured?" Allura replied. "Would you miss sleep in worry for them? Is that normal for humans? Because in Altea, that's the behavior of someone who's enamored."

His stomach sunk at hearing her words. "No," his throat felt dry. "It's not." Great. As if he could feel worse about this shitty situation. "But what should I do?"

She shrugged. "I am not the one to ask." She gestured to the door. "He is."

"I don't even think he's listeni-" the mechanical whirr of the door opening interrupted him. Keith was standing behind it, arms crossed.

"Trust me," he said, missing the venom that was probably supposed to be there. Instead of sounding angry, he just sounded... quiet. "I heard every word."

"I'll leave you two to it." Allura gave him a final smirk before turning to leave.

Lance tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat. "So-"

"'Even if' what?" Keith interrupted, glare softening slightly.

"What?"

"What were you going to say?" Keith repeated. "You wouldn't have made fun of me, even if...?"

The floor was suddenly very interesting. That had _nothing_ to do with Lance's reluctance to say his feelings, nope. "What I was gonna say was," Was the room getting hotter? Probably just him with his heart beating like a drumroller hopped up on 20 cups of coffee. "...'even if I didn't like you back.'"

Silence hung in the air like a heavy fog. He spared a glance at Keith's face.

He was perfectly fine with seeing the surprise, lips parted slightly and eyes wide. It wasn't a look he saw often.

"And," Using the wall as support, he got to his feet. They were only a sliver apart now, and he could affirm that the slow rise of heat in the room definitely coming from Keith. "I wouldn't mind if we tried that kiss again." He cracked a smile, leaning in closer until their lips were barely brushing. "Let a master show you how it's done."

"Sure," Keith said with a smirk. "Do you know where a master is?"

"Oh hush," he said just before he finally closed the distance. This time, it was pleasantly warm, spreading from his lips to his entire body like an invisible blanket wrapped around him. Keith, unsure of what to do, let him lead.

He decided something when they finally pulled away. 

This was much better than Keith ignoring him.


	4. Thank You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sappy poetic stuff and a thank you note, because you guys deserve it.

_Stars._ Keith decides, his eyes focused on the lights freckles dotting Lance's skin. _They look like stars._ They reminded him of the old Garrison posters he'd keep clutched close to him whenever he moved foster families. The little scintillating promises hanging above him he'd cling to. They reminded him of the glow in the dark star stickers Shiro got for him before he left for Kerberos. The stickers he insisted he didn't want or need, but spent an hour meticulously placing them on his dorm's wall.

He'd been in love with the stars for as long as he could remember.

How fitting that they graced the boy he'd fallen for with their image. The same boy with a voice like the best classics: attention-grabbing and toe-tapping. His best words would stick in your head like your favorite song. His eyes were like the nebulas in the documentaries he used to watch all the time- beautiful, dark and mesmerizing. They were always difficult to look away from.

But why would he _want_ to? If they could, he would happily spend all of eternity like this- holding each other as close as humanly possible, feeling each other's body heat, and memorizing every detail like it was their last opportunity to do so.

But it wasn't. They'd have all the time in the world to do this. No Galra, no Voltron, no worries. Just the two as they were right now- together. No matter what. For the first time in a long time, the future stretched out for them was certain and bright as all of the Universe's Suns put together.

Lance looked at him with an eyebrow slightly raised. The lips he must've kissed hundreds of times in this universe and thousands of others quirked up into a smile. "What?" He said. "Is there something wrong, Samurai?"

He hummed. "No," he assured, running his fingers over where the light scar in Lance's side would've been if he'd come out of the healing pod just a bit earlier. He still remembers that day a year ago like it only happened yesterday. He could feel his skin's heat grow a bit hotter in the chill of Lance's room. It was a pleasant warmth, humming in his skin and settling in his bones with comfortable familiarity. "I just... can't believe it. We're going _home."_

A year ago, he would've been neutral to the idea. There was nothing Earth could offer him that life on the Castle and among the stars couldn't. Family, friends, excitement- what else could he possibly need? 

Now, though? He was practically buzzing with excitement. The opportunity for a quiet, peaceful and domestic life with his favorite person and being able to meet his family was one he definitely wanted to take. Excitement was nice in doses, but he'd had enough to last him a lifetime after the past year.

Truthfully, Lance couldn't believe it either. Ever since they'd been thrown into the raging seas of Voltron's chaos, he'd yearned to go back home. The Garrison was his chance to get away from it, from the headaches scheming little siblings and loving but overbearing parents 24/7 could produce. He'd still leave video messages and called often, but he was finally out of the house. Free to do his own thing and forge his own path.

It hurt severely when he couldn't do any of those things. When he couldn't leave a quick message just to let his family know he wasn't dead. When he couldn't call just to hear his Mamá's voice anymore. It was a hard thing, getting over that towering mountain.

He was definitely excited to see them again and get one of Mamá's famous life-squeezing hugs and long-winded tirades that made you question all your life choices each. But he didn't miss home as much as he used to.

He'd once heard a quote about how home didn't have to be a place. 'Home' could be a person. A person with long, dead-of-night-with-no-moon colored hair he loved combing his fingers through. A person with peculiar purple eyes that could pierce into you just as easily as the knife he always carried around. A person with a voice that sent goosebumps rushing into his skin much too easily. A person who could look absolutely breathtakingly _gorgeous_ with just a little more effort.

His home was someone who protected him with fierce fiery intensity, yet also turned deep red and accidentally made the bedsheets spontaneously combust when he told him 'I love you' for the first time. Someone who easily silenced Lance's self-doubts with a few soft words and firm arms.

This was the kind of person he wanted around for as long as he could possibly have them. He wasn't perfect- neither of them were. They had their rough patches, their imperfections that could never be ""fixed"". 

But that was okay. They weren't together to try and fix each other. They were together for the mutual support, the ups and downs and times stuck in the middle. Not just in this universe, but in the countless ones born before and after this moment in time. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Neither of them would.

Just a year ago, they never would've even dreamed they'd be this lucky. That the people around them would be so overwhelmingly and wholeheartedly approving of them. In just a year, they'd overcame many personal things. 

Anxiety about putting her ideas out there, the instinctual bit of dread whenever she saw Inbox (1) or more. 

She's still yet to overcome the anxiety of talking to all of you kind enough to leave your thoughts on his works, but know this- she reads all of them. Ranging from the barely one sentence comments written by strangers to the comments by welcomed regulars to the rare but very welcomed detailed paragraph comments about why they loved the particular work. Every once in a while, she rereads comments on her works for either some motivation or a pick-me-up on rough days. 

It works every time.

Wow, writing about yourself in the third person is kinda weird. And probably a bit unintentionally pretentious. But that doesn't matter, because everything written down is true. I relate to different aspects of these two in particular, and it's kinda cathartic to write and vent out my own feelings in them.

It's even more so whenever people like it. Like the works I could've spent a few hours to a few _weeks_ working on. (Partly cause I'm a lazy piece of shit who's been working on and off on a longer fic for like 5 months now and it's only 12,000 words. I get distracted easily.) I'm lucky enough to receive only positivity in the Voltron fandom, even though I know that isn't always the case. 

(Side-eyes the discourse and antis. Calm the hell down. Don't tell people to kill themselves over which different fictional characters they wanna see kiss, jesus christ barbara this shouldn't have to be said.)

But I'm getting off track. You didn't click on this for my feelings on the cesspit this fandom can be.

What I want to say is this- thank you. Thank you for your support this past year, and I hope I can look forward to another year of positivity and growth!

All my love (and with fingers crossed for season 3),

Talinor/Squish/Kristen/Whatever you guys wanna call me.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: squishy--squish  
> please talk to me about these two i have a ton of aus


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